o me.

My only reply was to throw my arms around his neck without ceremony,
spite of the presence of a witness, who might blush at my familiarity.
"You are indeed," said I, "a really good prince; it is only a pity you
will not assert your right to rule alone."

"You are a little rebel," cried he, "to doubt my absolute power." This
tone of playful gaiety was kept up some time after the departure of the
lieutenant of police.

M. de Sartines returned next day to tell me that everything had been
accomplished to my desire. "M. Moireau," said he, "has left prison,
and departs for Spain to-morrow morning: his intention is to join
some friends of his at Madrid. He is informed of all he owes you,
and entreats your acceptance of his most grateful and respectful
acknowledgments. Will you see him?"

"That would be useless," answered I; "say to him only, that I request he
will write to me upon his arrival at Madrid, and give me the history of
his late adventure in its fullest details."

Moireau did not disappoint me; and so soon as his letter reached me I
hastened to copy it, merely suppressing the date of the place from which
it was written, and forwarded it immediately to the comtesse d'Egmont,
with the following note:--

"The many proofs of tender attachment with which the widow Rossin
honored young Moireau make me believe that she will learn with pleasure
of my having the good fortune to rescue the ill-fated youth from the
cruelty of the comtesse d'Egmont. This interesting young man no longer
groans a wretched prisoner in the gloomy abode that haughty lady had
selected for him, but is at this minute safe in a neighboring kingdom,
under the powerful patronage of king of France, who is in possession of
every circumstance relative to the affair. I likewise know the whole of
the matter, and have in my keeping the most irrefragable proofs of all
that took place and should I henceforward have any reason to complain of
the comtesse d'Egmont, I shall publish these documents with permission
of those concerned.

"The public will then be enabled to judge of the virtue and humanity of
one who affects to treat me with a ridiculous disdain. There exists
no law against a fair lady having lovers and admirers, but a stern one
forbids her to command or procure their destruction. I KNOW ALL; and
madame d'Egmont's future conduct will decide my silence and discretion.
The affair with Moireau is not the only one, others of even a graver
sin